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Published: September 8th 2011
Before I flew down under, I visited my friend in Singapore, Su. I met Su in Ko Lanta and she promised she would look after me for a few days. She did a very good job, even though she had no sense of direction. Singapore, for me, is definitely nice to see once or twice but there is no need for me to go back. It's just a big, expensive city for fat cats. Even the Chinatown did not sell knock off goods. Not a true backpacker destination whatsoever. Just too perfect!
To get to Melbourne I flew with Jetstar. These guys are the RyanAir of long haul flights. Food even had to be paid for on the seven hour flight. Thank goodness I had a round-the-world ticket to receive food free. The person sitting next to me looked confused when they were given the card machine after asking for theirs. Others even had to pay for blankets and a comfort kit, whereas I got given them free of charge. Lucky me.
I landed and passed through the daunting Australian customs. One form asked if I had been to the rainforest in the last two weeks. Undoubtedly I had
but they didn't need to know. I was treated to a beautiful sunrise, on the way to the town centre. On the other hand, it was dawn in the middle of Winter. That means cold cold cold. Even in Australia. Compared to the tropical heat of South East Asia, it was like arriving into a giant fridge. Everything but ice and snow.
Arriving in a new city can sometimes be a little tough and it is multiplied somewhat following a long flight plus being on a different continent completely. Things were completely different now. I now stayed in dormitory hostels, not private room guesthouses. I had to cook for myself, not eat out for pittance. Flip-flops, although I would not use them for a while, were called thongs. I even was a different type of person. I was now a "pommie bastard" (the not so affectionate name for the British, given by Aussies). One thuggish local chap, in my dorm, gave me a warm Aussie welcome by calling me one. One girl asked why he called me that to which he replied, "I don't know. He just is one!"
With only one month in Oz, there was no
real time to acclimatise. With only one day under my belt, I received a message from an old course-mate of mine, Phil. He had moved back to Melbourne recently, for a second stint, after spending some time back home in Manchester. The whole time he had been in Melbourne he had never watched a game of Aussie Rules. This sport of "footy" is like religion to Melbournites. How he had never seen a game confounded me since a game was firmly at the top of my list of things to do in Melbourne. Luckily, a game was scheduled at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) that day. This stadium is a sporting Mecca for myself and probably many others in the UK.
Phil and I met and purchased our tickets at the gate. Our seats were on the top tier. We were pretty high up but by no means were we too far away from the action. From the inside, the stadium was a sight for sore eyes. With a capacity of 100,000 people, this architectural monster was worth the entrance fee alone. As kick off time approached, the crowd began to build. The noise levels were rising. At peak time,
the stadium must have had 90% of it's total capacity. The place was buzzing. All of these people were here just for a league game, for a sport basically only played in the southern states. Crazy. What I had not initially realised is that we got tickets to watch the premier team, Collingwood. If you are a glory hunter you would support these guys.
When the game finally got underway, the atmosphere was electric. We were sat within a mixture of Collingwood and the opposing fans, Hawthorn, which can always add a little bit more flavour. Phil and I knew the basic rules yet every once in a while we would be confused by on-field goings on. This was exemplified, when some members of the crowd around us really made their voices heard by shouting "Ball!" at seemingly random intervals. One guy yelled it three times in a row with increasing volume and pitch. Phil and I were totally befuddled. Phil later found out it is shouted when a player is tackled without releasing the ball in time. A very odd thing to proclaim but I guess that's AFL (Australian Football League) for you. Collingwood did not disappoint and
came away with resounding success. Phil and I left a tad early, due to the cold and to escape the mass exodus of fans. We shared a giant pizza and went our separate ways for another few years. A top sporting experience, which I would not hesitate to do again. However, I would prefer to revisit the MCG in the future for an Ashes Boxing Day Test. Now that's what dreams are made of.
In my dorm was a backpacker called Jiri, from the Czech Republic. He was a genuinely nice and generous guy, who was also a trained chef. I really was not in cooking mode yet and as my saviour he offered to prepare my dinner for me. What a lucky coincidence. The food was tip top, ten times better compared to what I would ever make too.
The following day, Jiri and I went to explore some of Melbourne. We walked for hours on end to find Melbourne was a very nice looking city. It is neatly laid out, with wide open boulevards and many attractive buildings. The city is tourist friendly and easy to navigate around too. It would look glorious in the Summer,
especially the Royal Botanic Gardens, which were lacking a little colour.
What I did discover, along the way, was the cost of food had skyrocketed compared to Asia and even London. A chocolate bar was priced at the extortionate price of approximately £1.50. Looks like I was not going to eat chocolate for a while then. Due to the floods in Queensland, bananas had to be left on the shelf too. These were valued at about £11per kilo. Whoever is buying them is either extremely rich or extremely stupid. I felt like a student again. I had to try to make nice tasting food with no luxury items. My Ready Steady Cook bag would be terrible in Oz. Oh well, can't complain too much.
In my action packed schedule, I booked a tour to the Great Ocean Road. It was due to be a long day. The pick up was at sunrise and a coach-load of tourists were ferried along this famous road. The weather was interesting to say the least. Gale force winds pummelled us at every sight, although it did make for incredibly high waves. Some we saw must have reached 10m in height. The weather
became the biggest issue, at the famous "Twelve Apostles" (really seven apostles now). While trying to photograph this stunning coastline of weathered stacks and stump formations, we were berated by sideways rain and hale. The wind was so strong, one waterfall flowed over the cliff, drenching unsuspecting tourists plus I got a sore neck resisting it. It was virtually impossible to take photos that day. I have not done the any of the sights much justice, but I can safely say they are wonders to behold. In fact, the weather made this stretch of coast more real and why so many wrecks had occurred, in the past. On The Road, our driver was very helpful and informative. He did have some funny turns of phrase though. He told us hundreds of "Little secrets" and at one point he said "I'm not trying to be mean, but if you want to be dropped off just ask me." Can someone tell me why he began that sentence like that? He did this several times and I concluded it must have been a common Aussie phrase. Turns out I was wrong. He was just a little different to most people.
On my final
day in Melbourne, Jiri and I visited the International Motor-show. I took hundreds of photographs of the stunning feats of engineering, old and new. The cars on show ranged from Formula 1 cars to Chevrolets from the 50s, with an assortment of concept cars and super cars. I basically ignored the affordable cars on show. The Mazda concept car won my prize for coolest design. In addition, the BBQ grill shaped like a muscle car engine was also a winner. I was like a little boy in a sweet shop. My eyes were dazzled by the cars I would never own.
On our walk around town again, I discovered Melbourne's famous Cafe culture. Hundreds of people lined alleyways, sitting at tables gossiping about God-knows what, whilst sipping Cappuccinos. Again, the weather was terrible, but I could definitely see how classy and relaxing it would be in warm, sunny weather.
That evening, I finally got hold of an old friend, who lived in Melbourne, Dan. He played cricket for Cheadle Hulme Cricket Club, as an 18 year old, as the overseas player, when I studied in Manchester. At the time, I sort of took him under my wing and
showed him a good time, with the students. He even stayed with me in London for a couple of days, to see the sights and attend Wimbledon, so I was more than happy he got in touch. He was living in a flash apartment just by the Yarra River beneath the eye pleasing Eureka Tower. How he had pulled off this accommodation, I don't think he even knows. He treated me to a nice bit of nosh and some beers, while watching some State of Origin Rugby League. What pleased me was that he had grown up from the young naive boy who chatted up girls by talking about Bloc Party, to a man, who was responsible for himself and others. Even his voice had lowered. There is a little of me that is proud of him for that. On the downside, our time was cut short because his friend had had a car crash and Dan had to fetch him. He dropped me back to my place and said our goodbyes, until the next time. A nice way of rounding off my stay in Melbourne. A city I will definitely be returning to in the future!
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